Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

The sensation and faint taste of her still on his lower lip stayed.

Park looked down at those pink cherry lips and something inside his chest finally gave way.

He crushed his mouth onto hers.

The first second was pure collision, clumsy and desperate, all heat and no skill. Then their lips found a rhythm. Hers were softer than he had imagined, yielding under the pressure of his, and when he tilted his head and pressed harder she made a small broken sound that went straight through him.

Her hands fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Park’s own hands tightened on her waist, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric, the soft give of her body under his palms.

He kissed her deeper:

Their mouths opened before their tongues met — it was all tentative at first, then hungrier — sliding against each other in a wet, heated glide that made both of them breathe harder through their noses. Park felt the plush softness of her lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently, just enough to draw another quiet gasp from her.

She answered by pushing closer, the soft weight of her boobs pressing against him, her fingers slid up into his hair and gripped tight like she was afraid he might pull away.

He didn’t.

While one hand stayed locked on her waist, fingers curling into the fabric over her hip, the other slid higher up her back, spreading between her shoulder blades before dragging her flush against him until there was almost no space left.

Every small shift of her body registered — the way her stomach brushed his, the way her breath hitched whenever he changed the angle of the kiss, the faint tremor running through her arms.

The kiss turned messier. Wetter. Their lips moved with growing urgency, catching, sliding, pressing, the soft wet sound of it filling the quiet room.

Park could taste her now — something sweet — and it made the last of his restraint fray. He deepened the kiss again, his tongue stroking against hers, and felt her melt into him with a soft, helpless noise that nearly undid him completely.

They kissed like people who had been holding something back for far too long and had finally stopped pretending they could keep holding it.

When they finally broke apart it was only because neither of them could breathe properly anymore.

They stayed close, foreheads almost touching, chests rising and falling hard against each other. Their lips were swollen and shiny, wet with each other. A thin strand of saliva still connected them for a second before it broke.

Park could feel the rapid thrum of her heartbeat where their bodies pressed together, or maybe it was his own — he could no longer tell the difference.

His voice came out rough, almost wrecked out of breath.

"It’s not like I didn’t want to kiss you," he managed between uneven breaths. "It’s just... honestly, I don’t even know how to say this properly, but I like you, Emmie. I really fucking like you. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop if we keep going—"

Emmeline’s fingers tightened in his hair:

Her eyes were dark and glassy and full of something that looked a lot like want mixed with something even more dangerous.

"Who told you to stop?"

"Emmie—"

He didn’t get the rest out.

Emmeline’s arms came around Park’s body instead — both of them — sliding around his back and locking there, and she pulled herself up against him, fitting the entire soft length of her body to his, and buried her face in the side of his neck.

Park went completely still.

The warmth of her hit him all at once as, her soft breasts pressed flat against his chest, the thin fabric of her dress doing nothing to hide how warm and full they were. Her stomach brushed his. Her thighs touched the fronts of his legs.

Every place their bodies met felt fever-hot and too close, like she was trying to sink into him.

Nobody had ever done this to him. Not in either life. He had been hugged before — his mother, quick and one-armed at doorways; a girl at a prom party once, sideways, both of them still holding drinks.

Not this; a woman pressing the whole soft, warm weight of herself against him and putting her mouth an inch from his pulse and just... staying there.

Then she spoke something into his neck, and her breath moved warm and damp across his skin.

Every muscle in Park’s back seized at once as a tremor went through him like current through wire — straight down his spine, out into his hands, and lower. Park discovered exactly how much of his nervous system had been sitting under that patch of skin all this time, waiting for something to happen to it.

"Do you know how difficult it is?" Emmie said, barely audible but every syllable landing warm and wet along his throat.

Park closed his eyes.

He should have stepped back. He knew that with total clarity, the same way a man knows he should get out of the water when the sky changes buy he didn’t.

His hands stayed where she’d put them, and his eyes stayed shut, and somewhere under his ribs the honest truth surfaced and refused to be argued with — that this was the best thing that had ever physically happened to him, and he was in no hurry whatsoever for it to stop.

"Every single day," she said into his neck. "Every day I have to put the face on. Little brother. Big sister. Tease you and mess up your hair and act like that’s all it is." Her arms tightened, pulling him even closer, crushing her soft chest harder against him. "It isn’t. It hasn’t been for a long time, Park. And you’ve never once — not once — looked back at me like it was anything else."

Park’s throat worked but produced nothing before he registered something new against his neck.

Wet.

’She’s crying,’ he thought, and something in his chest tore straight down the middle. ’She’s actually crying. On me. About me.’

"I kept it buried," Emmeline said, thicker now, the words coming with more effort. "I’ve kept it buried for years and I’ve been so good at it. Nobody knows. Not Aveline. Not Evangeline. Not one person in this entire house—"

She stopped. Breathed. Started again.

"And then this morning."

Park’s eyes opened.

"This morning I came to wake you up, and you looked at me." Her voice caught. "Not the way you used to look at me. The way you looked at me today was so different as if you wanted nothing but to kiss me and do all the bad thing you could possibly think of. Your eyes went all over me and they were — greedy, Park. You were greedy; and you had never in your life looked at me like that before."

Oh, gods.

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A/N:First premium Chapter!

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